


An Invitation Not A Summons.

by shewhoguards



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 21:56:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21260267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhoguards/pseuds/shewhoguards
Summary: When Harry receives an invitation to Dudley's wedding he suspects it to be mostly for appearance's sake. Clearly, actually attending would be a terrible idea.





	An Invitation Not A Summons.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missgoldy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missgoldy/gifts).

That Dudley should invite Harry to his wedding was surprising but not shocking. Family was family, and family members not being invited to weddings was embarrassing and hinted of scandal. Perhaps it was the unexpected shred of decency left in Dudley that brought the invite, but Harry rather suspected it was more to do with his parents’ fear of “what would people say?” if his near-foster-brother failed to make an appearance.

Hermoine and Ron were split on what his response should be (Hermoine’s “Don’t go, it’ll make you feel awful and you’ll hate it” was balanced by Ron’s “Are you _crazy_?”). Harry explained to them why going would be an awful idea. They agreed. He went over again what they knew and what they didn’t know; the painful notes of his childhood he preferred never to think about. They kept on agreeing. He contemplated sending a note suggesting they say he’d joined the army; it was close to the truth. He considered sending a note suggesting they say he’d died; also close to the truth. He asked Hermoine if she would write a note saying he had actually died, and she gently suggested that might be going a little far.

He asked Hermoine if she would go with him, and when her reply was a tentative ‘of course I will, but are you sure?’ he sulked for a week and complained she was trying to pressure him into going, much to her complete bewilderment. Then he booked a train ticket. Just one. Making anyone else suffer this seemed unfair.

Harry had expected to be shuffled quietly off into a corner as far away as possible. That happened at the church - or at least, he avoided being recognised by the school-friend Dudley had acting as usher and quietly found himself a seat in the back row. When it came to the reception though he’d checked the four tables furthest away for his name and was starting to suspect they’d forgotten they’d invited him when his uncle found him.

“Harry! Good to see you, my lad!” Uncle Vernon descended, his face flushed with what seemed to be genuine pleasure at his presence. Harry stared. It wasn’t that he had never seen Uncle Vernon at this stage of drunken jollity before, he’d just never had this particular mood aimed at him. “Don’t be silly now, of course you’re not over here. You’re over at the top table where the family sit!”

Well, that was.. unexpected, but it was possible that this was all some elaborate show for the rest of the wedding. Harry fought the urge to flinch when his uncle slapped him on the back and escaped as quickly as possible. Sure enough, there was his name, right next to Aunt Petunia’s, only a few seats away from the happy couple.

It was also very close to the gift table. Habit made Harry count the gifts, and he was just adding them up in his head when his aunt sat down next to him.

“Harry!” She seemed to be less drunk, yet still confusingly pleased to see him. “It’s been so long, dear!”

“Yes, well, er--” _You hated me and locked me in a cupboard_ didn’t seem to be the correct reply. Harry found himself fishing for a better one. “Busy with.. Er.. work?” Busy with Voldemort, with DeathEaters, with trying not to get killed, that kind of normal thing that cropped up in a normal person’s bad day at the office.

“Yes, yes. Everyone’s so busy nowadays, but you shouldn’t be a stranger!” Much to Harry’s bewilderment she actually seemed to mean it. It wasn’t as though she was even speaking loudly enough for it to be for the benefit of an audience. “I was telling Vernon only the other day, the house seems so quiet without you children in it!” She gave a little laugh. “Why, do you remember that time when you were small when we took you to the zoo and the snake escaped? You don’t get escapades like that when there are no children about.”

Yes, he remembered. He remembered every part of it; how Petunia had wanted to leave him in the car, how they’d resented everything, including that he’d had the temerity to see a snake move, how he’d been punished when it escaped.. He stared at her, confusion mingled with rage, unable to find a polite answer.

“And then there was that time we got invaded by owls.” Petunia actually giggled. “Animals always liked you, dear, sometimes I thought you would be a vet or something when you were older.”

Either his aunt had lost her mind, or someone had Confounded her. Harry wasn’t sure which, but this conversation was making him feel sick to his stomach. He stood up, searching for an excuse to escape.

Of course that was the moment when Petunia looked right at him, holding his gaze. She smiled and said, “You know your mother would have been proud of you.”

It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to hear it. It was that he had wanted to hear it for _so long_ and then Petunia tossed it out the way she might have casually handed a child a lollipop (or at least, the way she might have casually handed _Dudley_ a lollipop). Harry felt it like a physical blow, winding him, and for a moment had to grip the table tightly to stop himself swaying. Petunia, apparently oblivious, kept smiling at him. “Can’t you stay and talk a little longer? It’s so nice to go over old times!”

The worst part was she sounded as though she meant it. Harry mumbled an excuse that involved something about a bathroom visit and fled.

He shouldn’t have been surprised to find Dudley coming out of the toilets. It was turning out to be that kind of day.

“Harry! Good of you to come!” Harry readied himself for another round of strange friendliness, but Dudley dropped his voice instead, stepping closer. “Seriously. I know this can’t be easy for you. Thank you. We probably don’t deserve it.”

Well, at least one family member didn’t seem to have completely forgotten their history. Harry gaped at him a moment, then waved a hand back roughly in the direction of the top table. “Your parents..?”

“Would have had conniptions if I hadn’t invited you. Sorry.” Dudley grimaced. “They’re getting on. I think they’ve spent the last five years rewriting the story of how we adopted you into our loving happy family in their heads.” His wry look said that he had yet to join them in that illusion. “Look, if you want to cut and run, I swear I won’t be offended.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, while silently marvelling that _Dudley_ of all people should be offering this kind of conspiracy. “I could have a work crisis?”

“Capital plan! Clearly you’re terribly important at wherever you work and they couldn’t get by without you!” Dudley made to clap him on the shoulder, then winced and dropped his hand at Harry’s expression. “Sorry. Nature of the day. Either someone’s banging me on the back or I’m banging them on the back, seems to be expected.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine, but he had an escape plan. That would pass as fine.

“Right. Look, I hope you’re having a very happy life doing whatever it is you do now, and hopefully neither of the old things said anything too terribly offensive.” Dudley was already drifting away. It was his wedding after all, and Harry was probably the least important part of it.

Harry hesitated, and then blurted the words out before Dudley could step away. “She said my mother would have been proud of me!”

“Ah.” Dudley looked over his shoulder at him. For a moment their eyes met, and Dudley seemed to search for the right words to answer that. “Well. Is there anything that makes you think that shouldn’t be true?”

Harry stared at him, then managed to shake his head silently in response.

“Then you should probably assume she meant it.” Dudley’s new wife was beckoning him. He gave a brief apologetic smile and vanished into the crowd.

It wasn’t much. In fact, it was barely anything. Still, Harry hugged the words to him all the way back on the train.


End file.
